


The Weakness

by Enmuse (Scifiroots)



Series: Shook the Bones [5]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Confessions, Crush, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Past Abuse, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-26
Updated: 2009-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scifiroots/pseuds/Enmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reflection and conversations in the wake of the undercover case. (An interlude.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weakness

\---

Garcia stared at Morgan, slack-jawed. He shifted uncomfortably.

"What do you mean," she enunciated each word carefully, "you've been 'thinking about Reid?'"

"Garcia…"

"Shush!" Garcia glared him into silence. "Have you no eyes? Did you suddenly go blind? Honeybear, I know you're better attuned to the female sex, but you've got to see the sparks between Reid and a certain other agent… a.k.a. the bossman?"

Morgan closed his eyes and sighed. Garcia sounded scandalized and all he'd wanted to do was try to talk to someone he trusted about how he'd felt during the last case. His history in sexual and romantic relationships solely involved women, although on the rare occasion he'd entertained fantasies about men who'd caught his eye. In general he waved it off as a passing fancy, acknowledging that there was some attraction to the idea but not enough to overcome certain deep-rooted fears. But Reid wasn't bigger than him, didn't intimate or dominate with his body, and Morgan always got the upper hand the few times they sparred in the gym.

And there was one of the things he wanted to talk about: Was he somehow feminizing Reid in his mind which made the possibility of getting sexually involved more plausible?

"Penelope," he said, catching Garcia's attention. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern and she leaned forward to touch his knee. "I just want to talk."

"Okay. I'm sorry. You'll always be my chocolaty god of goodness, you know that, right?" He rolled his eyes at her and she smiled in return. "Now tell me what this is all about. The Queen of Gossip is lost in the wilderness and you're in the presence of the Super Secret Keeper."

After taking a deep breath, Morgan began to speak.

\---

Hotch frowned as he reread his report. Nothing he typed seemed right. He knew he was at the point that he'd need to turn it over for Gideon's opinion. He'd been pushing that off until absolutely required. In the past couple days since the undercover assignment's closing, the older agent hadn't pressed for information. Although that hadn't stopped Gideon from staring at Hotch knowingly.

Muffling a sigh, Hotch printed out his report to take next door. For the most part he'd been able to keep to himself in his office, something that he needed when he didn't know how to interact with two of his agents.

Printout in hand, Hotch exited his office. A brief glance down at the bullpen revealed Prentiss and Reid wrapped up in their work and no sign of Morgan. Hotch paused only a moment in Gideon's doorway to rap his knuckles on the frame before entering. Gideon arched an eyebrow when Hotch closed the door behind him.

"I do eventually need you to look at a report," Hotch said, dropping said report on the desk before sitting down.

"Something else you wish to discuss first?"

Hotch gave him an exasperated look. "I'm yielding to the inevitable and allowing you five minutes to invade my privacy."

Gideon leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together across his chest. "I did notice a certain increase of tension."

"Undercover assignments tend to complicate things," Hotch replied. Gideon waited silently for him to continue. Hotch hid a sigh and let his gaze roam along the overstocked bookshelves. "You saw what happened."

"Between Morgan and Reid?" Gideon brought his joined hands up to his chin as he thought. "Not the development you preferred. Can't say I expected it, either."

Hotch dug his fingers into the armrest. "At least Reid's overcoming some of his issues," he said.

Gideon's lips twitched. "You do a surprisingly poor job hiding your thoughts when we have these conversations."

Hotch rubbed a hand over his face. He muttered, "I shouldn't even be thinking about any of this. If they… manage to continue their work without disruption, it's none of my business."

"Aaron," Gideon spoke in a tone that demanded attention. Hotch met his gaze with an expression of weary frustration. "Don't pretend this doesn't bother you. I know you've recognized your attraction to Spencer. You need to realize this doesn't mean the end of your career, it isn't wrong to try."

"We had coffee," Hotch admitted. He avoided Gideon's gaze by staring at the floor. "The other night, after the case. We talked about the case, and Reid asked about Hayley. It was like he was— maybe searching for answers about relationships." He pressed his lips together as he recalled the deterioration of conversation and how his focus became wrapped in the fantasy of kissing Reid.

After a long minute of silence, Gideon spoke. "What else happened?"

Hotch schooled his features before meeting Gideon's gaze. "I know it can't happen. I doubt he has any real interest."

"Aaron," Gideon sighed. "Small steps. Spencer's just started to feel secure enough to feel attraction again. He trusts us but he has memories that will keep his progress slow."

"It's a moot point," Hotch interrupted. "It would be inappropriate, and clearly he has interest in pursuing a…" he trailed off, uncertain if he could mask the bitterness he couldn't shake.

Gideon frowned. "You're being deliberately obtuse."

Irritated, Hotch stood up and motioned to the forgotten printout. "Take a look at my report, please."

"Aaron—"

"My personal life is off-limits, Jason," Hotch replied coldly. "Leave it."

He didn't make it through the door before Gideon managed to get in the last word, "He's never watched Morgan, Hotch. He always watches you."

Hotch clenched his jaw and decided to ignore the other agent.

\---

Reid stood in the kitchenette, stirring in sugar by the heaping spoonful. His eyes were directed down at the cup and he monitored the coffee, but most of his concentration focused internally.

His first therapist after being cleared of murder charges had encouraged him to start his day by evaluating his presence of mind. He'd reluctantly tried it and surprisingly found it to be a comfortable routine. Gauging where he was mentally at the start of each day gave him a sense of balance, even during some of his worst moments. Knowing where he stood allowed him to better handle his work and interactions during the day, guiding him in taking on new complications.

He'd had a strange, listless feeling the morning after wrapping up the undercover case. He woke from a fitful sleep in the hotel room he'd been sharing with Morgan. Reid was relieved that they didn't talk much about what happened during their assignment – just skimmed over the case , and then Morgan had some gossip that Garcia passed along. Even though Reid didn't care much for gossip, he did enjoy collecting information. Morgan and Garcia seemed to stay close with their interactions marked with flirtation and the little things like mindless gossip; funny quirks that seemed out-of-place when surrounded by a building full of suited federal agents.

Reid wasn't used to having a group of people around him who so whole-heartedly supported and understood him. He felt stronger and was able to build up his self-confidence with the knowledge and surety that he had people at his back.

Reid dumped a final spoonful of sugar and some cream into his mug and stirred with renewed energy. He watched the color smooth out to an even, deep caramel-brown. He lifted the mug and sipped, thoughts roaming to pull out the memory of staring at Hotch's tense fingertips atop a portico-covered café table. They had sat close, not necessarily unusual, but the closeness had tugged at something in Reid that he'd been ignoring.

He knew logically that he could and would move on from his experiences. He was confident that one day he would feel attraction again and not be horrified at the possible consequences. One day he would accept that he could fulfill his attraction. In time he wouldn't panic at the thought of intimacy, and he would welcome the touch of a lover. He knew all of this on the intellectual level, but it still seemed implausible – emotionally, instinctively – that he would move on.

Yet when Reid had taken the undercover position and faced his touch aversion head-on with someone he trusted and he knew cared for him, it seemed to be the crack that was needed to start eroding the barrier of his fears that had left him more scared than shy about Hotch's simple touch on his arm or the weight of Hotch's stare. It was something he was deeply grateful to Morgan for. Reid's problems with physical contact had worsened again after Miller, after the pain and scars that man's actions had caused; but the undercover assignment, along with the need and desire to prove himself to men like Harding and prove to _himself_ that he was strong, sparked determination to move forward.

_One step at a time,_ his therapist's voice echoed in his mind.

Reid sighed quietly to himself at the apt cliché. _Fear of the pain blinds us to the goal of healing. Only by seeing our problems clearly and experiencing them can we do something about them._

\---

Hotch joined Prentiss at a nearby Thai restaurant for lunch, in part because they both had a similar craving at the time and also because she had news from her mother to share. Hotch and Ambassador Prentiss did not have particularly close ties, but the powerful woman had taken an interest in her daughters' colleagues, especially after the BAU got involved in a case on the ambassador's recommendation.

They were halfway through lunch when Prentiss asked, "Did I tell you my mother's taken special interest in Reid? She's read the few articles he has published and tracked down his dissertations."

Hotch arched his eyebrows in surprise, unsure how else to respond.

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "She wants to meet him, and I swear she's fantasizing about making him her son-in-law."

That got a more definite reaction. Hotch choked on a noodle and it took a few moments to clear his throat. Prentiss looked at him apologetically with wide eyes. He carefully sipped from his water and resisted the urge to glare. She twirled her fork between her fingers, silent for some time.

"You know I'm not interested, right?" she finally asked.

Hotch kept his expression blank, respecting her enough not to act like he didn't know what she meant, yet also refusing to acknowledge his understanding. Prentiss glanced at him before averting her eyes.

The moment passed and Prentiss steered the conversation in another direction, asking about a new technique Garcia had come across to calibrate multiple searches.

They finished lunch and returned to the office, where it should have been fairly quiet with most people away for the lunch break. Instead, they stepped off the elevator to hear Reid rambling.

"What's got him worked up?" Prentiss muttered, frowning.

Hotch's steps quickly took him into the bullpen where he halted abruptly in surprise. Reid stood near his desk, hands in constant motion as he talked. It seemed like he barely took a breath between sentences as he faced a familiar dark-haired man.

"Dave?" Hotch eventually managed to say.

Reid's lips stayed parted as he trailed off. His gaze flickered between Hotch and David Rossi.

Rossi turned his head to Hotch and smirked. "Aaron."

"What on earth are you doing here?" Hotch approached the two men.

"Good to know you still have no interest in my publishing accomplishments," Rossi said dryly. He turned fully and clapped Hotch's shoulder. "Book signings?" he prompted.

Hotch shook his head, only vaguely remembering his friend having mentioned something about a book tour along the east coast. "Why didn't you let me know you were coming by?"

Rossi shrugged. "Element of surprise." He paused, then added with a slight smile, "Or I wasn't sure I'd have the time."

Hotch contained a snort at that. "Were you convinced that you'd be hounded for all-day interviews and newscasts?"

"Actually, I was given an extra couple days in DC since my signing in Lancaster was canceled. And since I _am_ paying for hotel stays out of pocket, why not help an old friend and offer a place to crash…?"

Hotch arched an eyebrow. "Where do you expect to sleep?"

"I figured you'd make the gentlemanly gesture and lend me your bed while you take the couch."

"You are sadly mistaken," Hotch told him. From nearby he heard Prentiss clearing her throat. Remembering that there were other agents around, Hotch brought the conversation out of the private and introduced, "This is Emily Prentiss. David Rossi is a former member of the BAU."

"And twice-published book author," Prentiss finished with a smile. She shook Rossi's hand. "Yes, I've heard. Nice to meet you, sir. Congratulations on your latest work."

"I'm hoping it's even better than the first," Rossi replied with no trace of modesty.

Reid licked his lips before speaking again. "Second publications are statistically shown to have higher purchase ratings, in large part due to consumers' recognition of previously-published names. With your name already well-known from top-selling non-fiction lists and among the law enforcement community, I'm sure your success is guaranteed."

Hotch recognized the amused look on Rossi's face and knew the man was valiantly trying not to grin. On the chance that Reid had forgotten to introduce himself, Hotch said, "I see you've met our resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid. He's the latest addition to our team."

"Nine months," Reid said quickly. He licked his lips again, clearly nervous.

"And no second thoughts?" Rossi asked. He tossed Hotch a teasing grin. "Even with this hardass taking the lead?"

Reid blinked, seemingly at a loss.

Hotch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Rossi isn't well-known for following the rules."

"Maybe you should loosen up and take my example," Rossi replied.

Gideon joined them in time to hear the latest exchange. "There are good reasons to adjust the rules," he agreed with a significant look at Hotch. It didn't go unnoticed by Rossi, but Gideon distracted him with a greeting.

Rossi clapped Gideon's shoulder and accepted a hardy handshake. "Good to see you, Jason. Still hanging around here, I see."

"Hard to leave," Gideon acknowledged.

Prentiss turned to wave Morgan over from the elevator. "Come meet David Rossi."

Hotch watched Morgan evaluate the former agent with a quick glance-over.

"So this is your team?" Rossi turned to Hotch after the final introduction.

Reid started to answer, "Actually there's JJ—" Who suddenly appeared from her office to interrupt.

"Hotch, Richmond PD is asking for an emergency consult."

Back to work. Hotch only had to open his mouth to get the team moving toward the conference room. He glanced apologetically at Rossi.

"Call me when you get the chance. Maybe I'll still be in town when you're done."

"It was good to see you."

Rossi gave him a small grin. "I will find out which rule Jason thinks you should break."

Hotch ignored the comment to catch up with his team, aware that Rossi kept watching his back and puzzling over his retreat.

\---

The consult in Richmond on their kidnapping case went surprisingly smooth with the safe return of the eight-year-old girl and the unsub's arrest. They'd closed the case within thirty hours, making it one of the shortest cases the BAU had ever worked. Even so, Hotch felt exhausted by the time he finished writing his report and headed for home.

He remembered to call Rossi just as he pulled in to park. Hotch managed to fend the man off for the night and promised some time during the next evening. So it happened that the following day Hotch left the office at a reasonable hour, picked up Chinese take-out, and found Rossi standing outside his apartment door with a six-pack.

"Hi honey, you're home," Rossi greeted, a smirk turning up the corners of his lips.

"Shut up," Hotch muttered as he unlocked the door.

They made it through the food and two beers apiece before Rossi smoothly inserted the question, "So who's tempting you to break the rules?"

Hotch paused as his mind transitioned from talking about the merits of fictional crime thrillers and "true crime" non-fiction to his personal life.

"Why are you asking about a 'who?'" Hotch replied with the first thing that came to mind.

Rossi arched an eyebrow. "I haven't been out of the game _that_ long. Besides, Jason gave you a particular look that gave me a good idea something personal is going on."

Hotch groaned and leaned back in his chair. He covered his eyes with an arm as he debated the wisdom of talking about this. Then again, Rossi wasn't part of the team, meaning he'd be reasonably unbiased and also unable to constantly badger Hotch about the issue.

With a sigh, Hotch admitted, "I almost kissed one of the agents under my supervision."

Rossi promptly returned, "The blonde or brunette?"

Hotch didn't say anything. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to talk about this. He hadn't considered how Rossi would react to discovering—

"I see," Rossi said, amusement coloring his voice. Hotch lifted his arm enough to glare at the other man. Rossi's smile broadened. "You're not just breaking an occupational rule, you're crossing your own boundaries."

Hotch covered his eyes again. "That part… really doesn't bother me. I hadn't really thought about it before, what with Haley and monogamy…"

"I don't think you ever got a chance to explore much of your sexuality, Aaron," Rossi said gently. "Hell, you had yourself convinced even before adulthood that you were meant to be with her."

Hotch could argue with him, protest that there had been a number of times before his marriage that he and Haley had problems and questioned their relationship, but in the end he recognized a truth in his friend's statement.

"So, what's the problem."

"There are rules," Hotch started with the easiest argument. He sat up and met Rossi's gaze with a frown.

Rossi chuckled. "You don't honestly believe everyone adheres to the no fraternization rule. If the people involved are still effective, scrutinization is minimal."

"I remember a certain Agent Robins who happened to apply for a transfer right around the time you started flirting with Shelly Luetz from archives," Hotch replied dryly.

"Don't cloud the point, Aaron," Rossi said. "We're talking about you. Now, you don't think you have an issue with 'falling' for another man and we're ignoring your supposed reluctance to break rules. Is this guy already involved? Did you get interested in a straight man?" Hotch didn't get a chance to answer before a look of realization crossed Rossi's expression. "It's the wunderkind, isn't it? What was his name…?"

"Reid," Hotch muttered. He reached for another beer.

"Well? Is he gay? Or taken?"

Hotch started on his third beer before he answered. "Unsure, to both questions. I don't think he's been… adverse to men in the past." He stared down at his beer as he rolled the bottle between his hands. "But… Dave, he's had some pretty bad experiences." He grimaced.

Any remaining amusement fell away and Rossi leaned forward to touch Hotch's hand. "Tell me."

After a moment of hesitation, Hotch launched into the story of how Reid came onto the team and the likely issues still haunting the younger agent.

By the time Hotch finished relaying the undercover case, he and Rossi had finished the last of the beer. Hotch began peeling the label off the bottle as he waited in the silence that followed.

Eventually Rossi said, "Well, he didn't run away screaming." He cut off Hotch's attempt to interrupt. "Listen to me. He said, 'I can't,' right? That isn't an 'I won't' or 'I'd never.' You're upset that you moved in too fast. You didn't screw up, Aaron. The kid wasn't uncomfortable with your presence, I think I would have noticed that – God knows he was jumpy as hell with me."

"Please don't call him 'kid,'" Hotch said with a wince.

Rossi grinned at that. "You're _not_ robbing the cradle. Stop thinking you're as old as Jason or me. And somehow I doubt, genius or not, that Reid's as young as he looks."

"Twenty-five," Hotch answered automatically.

"See? Your only problem here is his past, but that will ease over time with support." Hotch leveled him with a pointed star and Rossi sighed. "Alright, there's possible competition."

Hotch dropped his head in his hands, rubbing at his forehead tiredly. "It won't work…" he muttered, although the words seemed strangely like he was trying to convince himself.

Rossi called him on it. "Stop trying to talk yourself out of it. I know it's hard, you're scared of getting hurt. But I know you, Aaron, and you've emotionally invested yourself and that's not going to disappear at your bidding. Running away from this will eat you alive with the 'what-ifs' and if you find out later you had the chance—Well, don't fuck it up before you even try."

"It's complicated," Hotch retorted. He glared at Rossi. "What would you know, anyway?"

Rossi's lips thinned for a moment. Then he sighed and waved off Hotch's attempts at apology. "Okay, three ex-wives. I've fucked up every long-term relationship I've ever attempted. But for the sake of honesty, I think I stopped trying after the first marriage. So yeah, I believe I have an idea about self-sabotaging relationships."

Hotch didn't reply. He was too tired to argue and at this point wasn't sure he should. He stood up, stuffing empty cartons and beer bottles into the takeout bag. Rossi joined the cleanup efforts in silence.

"I'm keeping the bed. You get the couch," Hotch said. "I'll get some sheets."

With Rossi settled in the living room, Hotch stripped down to his underwear and fell into bed. Running through the conversation with Rossi again reminded him of the short exchange with Prentiss. That made three people, he realized, who were (not very subtly) encouraging him to cross lines. Their encouragement didn't necessarily mean pursuing Reid would be a good idea, or even that the other man would be receptive.

_I have an idea about self-sabotaging relationships… Don't fuck it up before you even try,_ Rossi's voice reminded.

Hotch groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his back.

"Damn you if this comes back to bite me in the ass," he muttered wearily. Apparently accepting his friends' advice was all that was needed for his body to give into exhaustion and fall – for once – into a deep sleep.

\--- --- ---

**Author's Note:**

> \- Quote that comes up in Reid's scene is from Bob Hoffman
> 
> A/N: So this part turned out to be more of an interlude than anything else. I wish I had more to offer you at the moment, but there was already so much that was cut out and rewritten to get this. I hope it seems to wrap itself up okay. This is the last update to come until (at the earliest) December.
> 
> November finds me dedicated to slaving away at NaNoWriMo for my first time. I'm actually writing a Criminal Minds fic for the project, but lord only knows when I'll end up having that prepared for other eyes. (My inner editor needs to go on vacation far, far away for the month.)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading, and extra special thanks to all the commenters. Your words mean the world to me and have bolstered my love of the fandom. I'll see y'all in a month.


End file.
